


The Shave

by ev1878



Series: Ramsay Snow/Theon Greyjoy (Reek) [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Game of Thrones spoilers, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Inspired by Game of Thrones, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:36:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2338745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ev1878/pseuds/ev1878
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Ramsay Snow is my Lord, and I am his loyal servant. I am Reek.'<br/>That was all I needed to know.<br/>And my master just told me that his father killed Robb.</p><p>An extented version of the shaving scene from S4 Ep2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shave

So that was it, Ramsay was nowhere near killing me, so I had to accept the role of Reek in order to save myself from more unnecessary pain.  
‘It’s not that difficult, isn’t it?’ That was what he said after I admitted myself to be Reek. He untied me from the cross and let me collapse right to his feet.  
‘Stand up, Reek!’ He ordered. With my foot impaled and some of my toes mercifully cut off, I struggled to pull myself up. Thankfully he seemed to be extra-understanding and allowed me to take my time.  
‘Good,’ he said, ‘follow me.’ I hesitated, but only for less than a millisecond, I guessed, but he noticed it anyway.  
‘Now!’ He added. I gave him a fearful nod, lowered my head, and followed him with much difficulty keeping myself from tumbling down again.  
‘And one thing,’ he suddenly said, ‘from now on you will address me as master or m’lord for you are now my servant.’  
‘Yes, m’lord.’ I replied instantly.

Now I had my place to sleep, in the cage beside his hounds, and I was grateful for the rags I was in. He would feed me when he fed his hounds. He saw me as a dog, and I started to see myself as a dog as well. I was willing to be one if that meant that I would live down my life without much pain. I was not a man after all. What was I actually? Did it really matter?

‘Wake up, Reek! Today we’re going to meet someone very special!’  
I had never seen the kind of light that shined in his eyes. Who would that be? Another captive, or Balon Greyjoy? Had he already taken the Iron Islands? But I knew better than to ask. I quickly stood up, ‘Yes, m’lord.’  
‘My father is coming to the Dreadfort,’ he said with total excitement, ‘and he wants to see you, Reek!’  
My head snapped and I looked up at him in pure horror. God knew what his father would do to me! He was a Bolton, and the Boltons had been flaying people throughout their history.  
‘Please, m’lord……’  
‘I know, I know, Reek, I won’t let anyone hurt you,’ he said, ‘I swear!’ he added.  
My legs felt shaky and my body started to tremble. What happened the last time he swore something? I got flayed. Swearing meant nothing to him. He always made promised, yet he promised nothing. I got caught back and tied to the cross, I got flayed, I got…..got something cut off, because he had broken every single promises he had mad.  
‘I know you think I am a liar. I’m not blaming you. But now you are Reek, my servant, not Theon.’ He smiled. ‘And I love my servants as much as I love my hounds!’ He finished his sentence in a teasing tone.

‘Father.’ He called a man coming into the hall. The man made his way towards me. I had a sudden urge to back away but the fear of disobeying my master kept me still in the spot I stood.  
‘What did you do to him?’ the man asked.  
‘I trained him,’ my master paused, ‘he was a slow learner, but he learned.’  
The man grabbed my right hand and frowned. I gasped at the pain when he brushed my wounds.  
‘You flayed him’ the man said.  
‘Just a few bit, and removed a few others.’  
My eyes cast to the ground, but I knew where exactly he was looking at, with that unmistakable smile.

‘This is Balon Greyjoy’s son and heir.’ The man said with disapproval.  
‘We’ve been flaying our enemies for one thousand years. The Flayed Man is on our banner. What does it matter?’ My master replied.  
The man gave him a dangerous look, ‘you are not a Bolton. You are a Snow.’  
I sensed my master’s body stiffened at the comment, but he didn’t say anything.  
‘Theon is a valuable hostage, nor your plaything.’ The man continued.

I’d heard that name before, I’d heard someone called me that before, but it all seemed extremely distant. I had no feelings but sympathy for the name. That was a name of a boy who betrayed his best friend and the family that raised him, who fucked his sister like a savage animal, who was abandoned by his own father, and who was no longer remembered by the people in the Iron Islands. I was lucky, because my master loved me. He cared about me, and he gave me another life. Theon was his plaything, but I was not. I was his loyal servant.

‘I need Theon, I need him whole,’ the man said.  
My master paced slowly around me and replied proudly, ‘Theon was our enemy. But Reek! Reek will never betray us!’  
I wouldn’t. Theon was the one who betrayed, not me.  
“I place far too much trust in you,’ the man my master called Father seemed uninterested.

I sensed my master growing a but angry, which was bad, really bad.  
‘Reek! How could you let me stand before my father unshaven? It’s disrespectful.’  
My heart raced faster. I’d do anything, please, anything to avoid any possible punishment from my master.  
‘I’m sorry, m’lord,’ I replied fearfully, but made sure that my voice was audible.  
He sat down in the chair and I was holding a razor in my right hand. The man gave my master a concerning look.  
‘If I’m not a Bolton, Father, what does it matter?’ he asked.  
I was not sure what he meant, but it was none of my business to understand what they were saying.  
‘Go on, Reek. A nice, close, shave,’ he ordered.  
I only had to take orders.

‘Reek, tell Father where are Bran and Reckon Stark,’ my master looked up into my eyes.  
‘I…..I don’t know, m’lord.’ I replied, hands still working on the razor.  
‘You murdered them and displayed their corpses at Winterfell.’  
I swallowed hard, not sure whether to answer or not.  
‘Reek, did you murder the boys?’ My master demanded.  
‘No, m’lord. Just two farm boys.’  
‘And you crisped them so no-one would know?’  
‘Yes, m’lord,’ my mouth automatically replied for me.

‘The Starks have always ruled the North. If the boys are alive, the country will rally to their side now that Robb Stark is gone.’ My master said in a rather peaceful tone, yet it struck my mind like a lightening. My constantly moving right hand came to a halt suddenly.  
‘Sorry,’ the fake look with sympathy appeared again, ‘I know he was like a brother to you. But my father put a knife through his heart.’ He looked up playfully, showing no fear in his eyes. The confidence was obvious, but how could he be so sure?

My right hand clenched around the razor yet it shook unsteadily. I sucked in a sharp breath and for that one second, I swore that I wanted to slice the throat of the bastard who had put his neck under my razor, willingly. It was my chance, and probably my only chance I could ever make up for the sins I bore. And using the same razor, I could even guarantee myself a luxurious, quick death. The old man wouldn’t be quick enough to stop me, because he was still holding his breath, waiting nervously to see what would happen, and because the razor was already in my right hand. I was grateful that my remaining fingers could still hold a razor, so why not?

The razor was still in its place, touching the soft skin under his chin. I could even feel his pulse, the pulse of a bastard who wanted to prove something to his father as much as……Theon.  
Theon was dead, Theon was the one who betrayed, not me. And who was I? Reek, I told myself. I was Reek, a loyal servant to my Lord. How could I harm him, just how could I ever think of harming my master?  
The razor went steadily up and I finally finished the shave.

‘You want to prove yourself a Bolton?’ The man asked. My master raised an eyebrow.  
‘Gather whatever men you can, bring this creature of yours, and take Moat Cailin for the family, for OUR family, and I’ll reconsider your position.’ The man then left the hall without further instructions.  
‘What do you think, Reek? Are you not as excited as I am?’ My master wiped his newly shaved face with a piece of cloth. ‘Time to prove ourselves something, isn’t it?’ He walked fast through the hall, saying to me ambitiously without turning back.  
I was lost in his words until I heard the clank of the razor dropping and hitting the stone floor. I bent down to pick it up and quickly followed my master out the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I welcome all sorts of comments.  
> So feel free to tell me what you think or what I should improve.  
> Massive thanks for reading.
> 
> Andri


End file.
